Hurt: The Re-Up
by iiTsuki-Hime
Summary: UsUk Songfic. England thinks of all the wrong people have done to him, and so he decides to jump off of a building. America flies to England, and sees England ready to jump. He climbs the stairs to get to England, stopping him from jumping he confesses to him that he misses him and that he was sorry for blaming him for everything he's ever done. Hurt: Christina Aguilera. (Re-up)


Hurt

England trudged up the forever-winding steps of the tallest building he could find in his country. He was planning on jumping off the ledge and ending his life. Each step he took, he thought about how the people he knew and how they have wronged him in so many ways. A tear rolled down his cheek as he sniffed. Images of different countries flashed through his mind, along with what they have done to him.

America was the worst. He had taken care of him such a long time ago. He had done so much for him before he decided to turn against him. And for what? Freedom? He was only trying to protect him, not completely ruin him. He still remembered that day in Yorktown, 1781.

_England kneeled to the ground, sobbing. He was surrounded by America's troops, all men pointing their muskets at the weak Englishman. He lifted his head to look at his now ex-colony. Tears escaped his eyes as the rain beat down on all of them. He raised his muddy, beaten arms to cross over his chest. _

"_I can't do it. I can't hurt my little brother. I just can't," he whispered to himself._

_America lowered his musket, yet his troops stayed alert. He got down on one knee, lowering himself to England's level. _

"_You used to be so big," he said, just loud enough for England to hear him. He then stood up, backing away from him as the five remaining people of England's troops raised a white flag._

_America and his troops left, leaving England there, alone and on his knees, sobbing madly. He'd always remember the day he failed to properly raise a country._

_**America's POV**_

America awoke abruptly from his terrible nightmare. Well, it wasn't so much a nightmare, more like a frightening memory that he hoped he would never remember. It was the day he defeated England; the day he became a country.

All of a sudden, he felt terrible, like he wanted to throw up. He also almost felt like he may have… missed England… for some reason. He saw an image of England run through his mind. He hadn't seen England in quite a while, so maybe that was the reason why he missed him. He had a sudden urge to visit him, now.

He threw on some clothes, getting in his car and speeding toward the location of his private jet. He went straight to the cockpit, plans set on flying the jet himself. He set the speed at 1,600 miles per hour, pressed a couple buttons, and set off in England's direction.

All of a sudden, the memory of Yorktown and its happenings came back into his mind. He tried listening to some music to shake the memory, but it didn't work. He remembered even before Yorktown, back when he was smaller than England. He remembered how he always used to say that he was proud of America. He walked away from all of that when he declared himself as a new country. If only he knew then what he knows today.

- In London, England

America arrived in England an hour later, parking his jet near the closest airport. He walked through the streets of London, looking at all the buildings. There was one particular building that caught his eye, though, and it was not for a good reason, either. He looked up at the very top, and he saw England there, standing on the ledge. Not taking a minute to think about anything but England, he ran straight through the door and to the stairwell. He ran faster than the speed of light. He felt that if he had taken the elevator, it wouldn't be nearly as fast as he was going. As soon as he reached the top, he literally kicked the door down. He raced toward England.

"England, wait!"

He threw his arms around him, pulling him away from the edge. England fought against his pursuer, but he knew it was no use. America was too strong for him.

England sank to his knees, America following him to the floor as he continued to hold England. He rubbed his back, trying to comfort him from whatever pain he was feeling.

"Oh England, why? Why would you want to do this?" America whispered into his ear. "It's not worth it."

"What do you mean, 'why'? You _should _know, since _you _were the one who caused most of my pain!" England retorted, giving another shot at trying to get away from the American's grip.

"What? What did I do?" America asked, keeping his hold on the Englishman tight.

"Don't you remember? Yorktown, 1781, you made me feel like I was worthless! You made me feel like rubbish! It's all _your _fault that I feel like this! And you have the nerve to ask me what you did!" England stopped struggling, realizing that nothing could make America let go of him right now. It was better to stop now so that he could save his energy for jumping.

America was silent. To be honest, he felt terrible for leaving him that day. Of course, the idea of freedom was great then, and it still sounds great now, but he wished he didn't leave him like he did.

"I never got to say…" America started. "Thank you, for everything that you've done. The good things, the bad things, the things you did right, and even the mistakes you've made. You may have did me wrong a couple of times, but I forgive you. I never got to say that I actually missed you the day I left. I missed the way you patted me on the head, told me that I was perfect, that I was amazing the way I am. There was nothing I wouldn't have done to hear your voice again. I missed you so much… I cried…"

"And you know…" America continued. "I know that you still hate me for leaving you, and I don't blame you for that. I still miss you, even now that I'm here holding you back. Yeah, I know that doesn't make sense. I miss _you_… the real you… as in your personality. Like how sometimes you hit me in the head for being stupid, and the names you call me when I get on your nerves. Like… what was it?"

"Stupid git," England replied.

"Yeah, that. Even though it hurts me a little more inside when you do that, I still like you. Sometimes I feel like calling you, but I know you won't answer the phone because your either busy with something that I would never understand or you just hate me so much that you won't even bother _looking _at the phone," America said, a tear rolling down his cheek.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is…" America paused. "What I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry for blaming you for everything. I'm sorry that I hurt you so bad. And to be honest… I've hurt myself by hurting you," he confessed.

All was quiet. All that could be heard were the cars on the street and the whistling wind.

"I don't hate you. I hate what you did to me. I still love _you_," England said, breaking the silence.

"But if you love me, then why would you want to leave me?" America asked.

"I… don't know…" England replied. "It's just that… some days, when I think about it, I feel so broken inside because of it, but I could never admit that to you or anyone else. Sometimes I don't even want to leave my bed because I miss you so much. It's so hard to go on living like that."

"Tell me, America, if you could go back in time, before Yorktown, would you tell me I was wrong? Would you at least help me understand what I was doing wrong? Did you look down on me that fateful day? Were you ever proud of me?" England asked, looking into America's sapphire eyes.

"Of course I was proud of you, England. I was always proud of you. I would never look down on you. And if I could go back in time, I wouldn't change a thing. I'm still glad to be my own country. And look at me now. At least you have the honor to say that you raised a strong country, aren't I right?" America brushed a couple strands of hair away from England's face, giving him a light smile.

"You're right," England agreed, returning the smile. "You know, there's nothing I wouldn't have done to be like this again; looking into your eyes and seeing you looking back at me. It makes me happy to finally do this again."

"If I had known that I was going to lose, and if I had just one more day, I would tell you how much I would miss you. And I've missed you ever since you've been away," England whispered.

"Now that I know that you still love me, I no longer wish that I could go back in time and change everything. Everything is the way I want it, now," England said, hugging the American.

"There's nothing more I could ask for than to be here with you, England. I love you," America said, stroking England's hair.

"I love you too, America. I love you so much."

**(A/N):**

**Hey people of the Internet. Once again, I found some minor problems that have been pointed out to me, and so I have fixed those minor problems. Enjoy the re-up of the original story, and if you have no idea what I'm talking about and just saw this story, enjoy it anyway.**

**Thanks for reading. Please review and tell me what you think!**

**Dewamata, watashi wa daisuki. **


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